


Light-footed assassin

by Shibakamiko



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassin Noctis Lucis Caelum, Assassin's Festival DLC, Interrogation, Mobs/Noctis, Non-Consensual Tickling, Tickling, but it's soft I swear lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 07:11:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15286422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shibakamiko/pseuds/Shibakamiko
Summary: When you're an assassin in training, you need to remember some safety rules. First, be quiet. Second, be efficient. And third... don't be stupidly reckless.Apparently, Noctis missed a couple of these.





	Light-footed assassin

**Author's Note:**

> There is absolutely no sexual content in there and no Noctis was harmed along the way. He complains lot but he's alright :)

_Cake, baby~_

Standing on top of the outer wall, Noctis observed the palace down below. Lots of buildings, all richly painted and decorated. The sight made him grin in the shadow of his hood. Yes, that will do nicely… He just needed to get to the main building, sneak inside, and steal something of value – of  _high_  value. Lord Loqi was known for being a wealthy man; the young assassin-in-training just knew he would find the perfect token here. Something that would have all his masters in awe.  
The first step toward earning his place among them.

Fast and light-footed as a hunting coeurl, he made his way from rooftop to rooftop. Behind him, the fireworks painted the night sky in shades of greens and pinks, but he ignored them. This was his first solo mission without an instructor to watch over him. The first step of his initiation – a simple theft, to prove he could go in and out of a fortified place without getting noticed. Then if he succeeded here, the next step would have him kill his first target…  
He wouldn’t fail. He would pull it off so good, in fact, that the masters would have no choice but to admit his value!  
At 18 years-old, he was the youngest member of the Assassins’ Guild. And despite having unquestionable skills for the job, he couldn’t help but feel a constant need to prove himself. A need that sometimes made him much too reckless. More than once, he had ended up in quite the perilous situations…

And sadly, tonight was no exception.

Sneaking in so far had been too easy. He felt a boost of confidence, and forgot about caution as he landed on a balcony, in plain sight. But he was getting closer to his goal: the main building, with its golden ornaments, laid just a stone’s throw from there! He could do it, faster than any apprentice ever managed to. He got ready to jump. Crouching down. And…

          A strong arm wrapped around his neck. Half crushing his windpipe.

Before he could even think about stopping himself, he gave a strangled cry of alarm. A guard…!  _Shit!_  How?! Why didn’t he see him coming?! The assassin’s blade sprung out of his leather gauntlet, and he tried to aim for his aggressor’s head. Only to get blocked halfway by another man, who grabbed his arm none too gently and all but ripped the gauntlet off.  
In a matter of seconds, those two had the young assassin pinned down. Noctis’ cheek rubbed painfully on the ground while they restrained his wrists behind his back. He growled, glared, kicked, cursed, did everything he could. But nothing seemed to faze the guys, and they both sported very impressive muscles… unlike a certain scrawny someone.

He couldn’t fight them off. The men dragged him unceremoniously across the balcony, and around the corner. Then pushed him inside a well-lit room. The guardroom, he realized with horror. Fuck… had he been so stupid that he would get so careless  _right in front of them?!_  Oh gods, he was going to be the guild’s laughing stock for  _days_ … especially if Master Gladiolus heard of it.

He didn’t have time to sulk on that thought though. There were a lot more than just two men in there. He could count sevent guards all around him: his two captors in the doorway behind him, four more playing card games, and one writing peacefully in a corner. Those fourteen eyes all converged on the captive. A heavy silence falling on the room. Noctis felt his stomach do a quick flip.  
Shit… He really was done for, wasn’t he…

           “Well well, what do we have here…” Letting go of his cards, one tall, bearded man walked up to him. On his order, the two others from before pulled him up on his feet again, and one threw Noctis’ gauntlet to the newcomer. The man examined it carefully. Whistling at the hidden blade. “Ooh, impressive. Assassin, I s’ppose? Ya’re after Master Loqi? Ha! Too bad for ya boy, we can’t let ya kill the one who signs our paychecks.”

Noctis glared even more. But he pressed his lips tight together and said nothing. Had he let his rage out, he would have probably yelled and kicked and hissed, but who knew where that would lead him? The gallows? He would rather wait for his chance and get out of here at the first occasion.  
The bearded guard, who seemed like the others’ boss, snapped his fingers at one of his game partners and gestured toward their silent captive.

           “Masson. Frisk him, see ‘f he has more weapons on him.”

A fourth man with blond hair – “Masson”, supposedly – closed on to Noctis, and started by pulling his hood back. Revealing his delicate feature and striking, angry blue pupils. That sight brought a mocking laugh out of him.

           “Heh! He’s just a kid!”

What?! Now that was unforgivable! Noctis’ eyes narrowed and he snapped his teeth at Masson’s hand.

           “I’m  _NOT_  a kid!!”

To his utter dismay though, his little outburst only heard him more laughs and whistles from his captors. Even the one who almost lost a finger there leaned down, a couple inches away from his face, and teased him more.

           “Aw, and a feisty one at that! The kitten’s got some pretty sharp claws, huh guys?”

More cheers and guffaws, and Noctis blushed a bright red despite himself. Those bastards, those ugly bastards, he was  _so_  gonna murder them once he got out of here!!  _If_  he ever got out of here.  
_Thank you for your optimism, brain…_

          For now, he could do nothing except struggle – uselessly – as that Masson guy proceeded to body-search him. He wasn’t being rough, thankfully. It started with gentle pats along his shoulders and back. Then down to his sides…

Noctis flinched at that. Taking in a brief, sharp breath. Ok, he somehow wished the guy would be less gentle now… because the sensations those light touches sent up his nerves? No good. No good at all.  
He hoped no one noticed his sudden reaction. And apparently, Masson hadn’t. But the boss though… the boss met Noctis’ eyes. And  _smirked_.

           “Hey. Check around his hips again.” he said.

           “Uh?” the blond guy shot him a glance. “But I already checked, there’s noth-”

           “Dun ask. Do it. And  _thoroughly_.”

 _Oh no. Nononono don’t do it, don’t do it, you checked, you don’t have to…!  
_ But Noctis’ inner prayers changed nothing. Masson shrugged. And felt around the designated area again. Only this time, he insisted. And this time, Noctis couldn’t contain himself. He flinched again, and let out a muffled sound, halfway between a growl and… a giggle.

Everyone froze in the room. Then one after the other, the men all smiled…

Did the young captive really think he was fucked before? Never mind that. He was  _really_ fucked  _now_.

           “Oooh…” even Masson had caught the drift now. “A bit  _ticklish_  there, kid?

Noctis wanted to deny that, wanted to curse and insult them and scream at them to  _let. him. go!!_  But the moment he opened his mouth, the man pinched his hips again. The poor apprentice squeaked immediately.

           “H-HEHEY!  _Don’t you touch me you fu_  -eeEEEH!” Simultaneous pokes, right below his ribs. “N-no stop - _GAAAH_!” A couple pinches at his belly. “DAMN YOU, STOP IT RIGHT NOW!!”

           “Stop? Why would we?” The boss chuckled in answer. He seemed to be enjoying this far too much, that asshole! “Ya came to kill our Lord. Ya need to be punished. Sorry kid, we dun make the rules.”

As if!! He just made that up! Graaah, and that guy who kept tickling his sides…! Noctis twisted in his captors’ hold, giving muffled giggles against his will and kicking his legs furiously – but sadly, missing the blond man’s face. Why him, whyyyy…! He was trained to withstand torture; he could deal with pain easily. But  _this_! This was completely different, and he hated it!

           “I-I dihihi… didn’t come to kill your stuhupid master!” he argued.

And got a snort in answer.

           “Yeah right,  _assassin_. What ya gonna say now, that ya came for a tea party?”

Meanwhile, Masson was growing bolder, and he pressed his fingers on the boy’s ribcage before vibrating them rapidly, ripping a flurry of squeals out of Noctis.

           “Ehehehe ihit’s the truhuth…!!” Curse that stupid garb, it did nothing to protect him!

           “Hey guys! I think I found a hidden knife in there! Oh wait no, that’s just a tickly little rib~”  _CURSE THAT STUPID MASSON TOO!_

Noctis knew he was losing all credit here. How could he keep trying to look mature and adult while giggling like a schoolboy?! His cheeks burned from the humiliation. That was the worst, not only was he failing his mission, but in such an embarrassing way too… Oh, the masters would never let him hear the end of it…

          The “body-search” went on and on for agonizingly long minutes, the guy finally leaving his torso to feel along his legs. And of course, taking great care of his sensitive thighs and knees. His kicking and bucking had close to no effect, apart from making the men cheer louder and his tormentor get meaner. Pinching his kneecaps. Wriggling fingers behind. Kneading up and down his inner thighs. While shouts of “get him good!” and “tickle him harder!”, along with diverse suggestions of spots or techniques to try, echoed in the room. At one point, the first two captors even joined the fun, holding each of the boy’s bound arms in one big hand while the other one prodded and poked randomly over his sides and tummy.

With four hands tickling him, Noctis became a laughing mess in no time at all. He cursed and pleaded, twisted as much as he could, pulled at the ropes holding his wrists, but in vain. Those guards really knew how to tie a knot! He prayed and prayed for a prompt respite. And when the dreadful torture came to a stop, he foolishly thought himself out of troubles…

Until the boss stepped in again.

           “Good job here. I think we’re almost done now. Just one place we haven’t searched yet…” And he gave a nod at the bulky men keeping Noctis captive. “Dreg, Selis. Lift da boy up, so we can see what he hides  _in his boots_.”

Those words almost made the young assassin’s heart stop. His face, flushed a moment ago, suddenly turned white.

           “N-NO…!!”

His struggling became frantic, and he managed to aim a few vicious kicks here and there, but it didn’t seem to do the men much harm. They hoisted him up as if he weighted nothing. Then the boss and that Masson guy –  _again!_   _May the Sixth rip off his nasty balls!!_  – each grabbed one of his flailing legs, tucking them under one arm, and began working the leather boots off his feet.  
_His feet…!  
_ Gods, he couldn’t stand it there! He was going to die! He needed to find a way out, and quick!

           “I-I’m not hiding anythihing, I swear! Lehet me gooo…!!”

He was already giggling, just from the anticipation alone. But once again, his words failed to bring him any mercy. The men simply exchanged knowing glances, and the boss shrugged.

           “Can’t really trust ya, ya know? Ya’re the  _enemy_  there boy. Nuthing personal, ‘f course.”

“Nothing personal”,  _my ass!_ It was totally personal! Those guys seemed set on tickling him to death…!

          Noctis squirmed and trashed about violently in their hold. But despite his valiant efforts, he soon heard the sound of his boots hitting the ground. His bandaged feet curled up in defense, his protests growing louder, more aggressive, more desperate, “nononono dohon’t get near those, I’ll fucking kihill you, don’t…!” yet still the men didn’t listen. One curious index tested the waters under his left foot – the boss of course, sir “nothing personal”,  _yeah right!_ – and he yelped loudly.

           “Hmm, no weapon here apparently…” Phew, the guy was admitting it, finally…! Maybe they would just release him now- “… but a pair of ticklish tootsies? Heh, works for me! Let’s see, ya might hide something under those bandages.” … Fuck. Fucking fuck.

Without even letting their poor victim voice any complain, both guys started uncoiling the strips of cloth. At every inch of sensitive skin they uncovered, their fingers dove right in for a good scratching. And Noctis’ reactions didn’t disappoint. He jerked and shrieked in laughter, his feet twisting so much he almost managed to slip out of the men’s armlocks. Though they caught him easily before he could escape, and tightened their hold in consequence.  
He. was. doomed. He was completely stuck there, forced to take it, and he could do nothing about it except beg and scream in hysteria. Even when the bandages fell down to join his discarded boots, those fingers didn’t stop! They raked across his arches and he threw his head back, wailing, tears wetting his eyelashes.

Ok,  _now_  it couldn’t get worse. It couldn’t… right?

           “Ah, still nuthing. Maybe between yar toes then? We haven’t checked there yet. Need to be veeery thorough.”

_Nooooooo…!!_

           “NAAHAhaha-NO pleehehehe…!  _PLEASE!_ ” Dammit, he never thought anyone would ever get him to  _beg_. And it had to be those scums! How he hated himself for showing such a weak side, and how he hated  _them_  for forcing it out of him… but he couldn’t help it, the tickling was driving him crazy! “Nahat my tohoes, please, NOT MY TOHOHOOOES!!”

His pleas dissolved into a screech as both the men began prying his little toes apart, wriggling them around and digging their big fat fingers on the underside. He bucked in the air, shook his head desperately, ebony locks sticking to his sweaty forehead. He needed a break, he couldn’t breathe, he  _couldn’t breathe…!_

           “’Kay no hidden weapon there, but lots of dirt.” Lie! Barefaced lie!! Noctis always took great care of himself, he knew there was no dirt on him! “Ah dun worry boy, I’ll dust it off for ya. Aren? Gimme yar quill.” Oh gods no,  _no…!_

Deaf to the assassin’s screams for mercy, the writing guy Noctis had spotted upon entering the room complied. And soon the feather’s fluffy part could be felt sawing between the toes of his left foot, waving under them, twirling down his sole… while his right foot was being wrecked with five furiously scribbling fingers…

          That was simply too much for the poor teen. His laughter turned to silent, wheezing gasps and he lay limp in the guards’ hold, unable to even struggle anymore. He briefly wondered if he would pass out like this, tickled out of his mind…

But just then, everything stopped at once. Most unexpectedly.

Noctis was lowered down to the ground. And the boss kneeled at his side. Wiping the tears and drool off the boy’s face with gestures one could only describe as… gentle?  
_Huh??_

           “Ya ok there boy? Still with us?”

As much as he would have wanted to spat at the guy, Noctis was too tired to have any anger left in him. So he only whimpered in reply. That seemed enough, because the man nodded and gestured for one of his comrades to gather the young assassin’s stuff. The minute after, a glass of cold water was pressed to Noctis’ lips. He didn’t question his luck and drank it eagerly. Wow… Master Gladiolus’ trainings were hard, but this? It had been way worse. He couldn’t remember ever feeling that exhausted in his entire life.

The boss was still there, right beside him. What could that mean, another torture session…? The weight of his gaze made the teen shift nervously, but the man chuckled and ruffled his mop of black locks.

           “Dun look at me like that, we won’t getcha again! That is, if ya leave without making a fuss?” Noctis nodded frantically at that. “No more trying to sneak in?” More nods. “And no trying to kill our Lord or anything?” Even more nods coupled with pressing whines, causing a wave of hilarity among the men. “Well then guys, ya heard da boy! Take his stuff and escort him back to da front door!”

One of the bulky guards gathered the aforementioned things; the other one lifted the teen and threw him over his shoulder, like a simple sack of potatoes. The apprentice assassin would have murdered him for that, oh-so violently… but for now he felt only grateful not to be forced to walk. He wasn’t even sure his legs could carry him anyway.  
Before they exited the room though, the boss patted his head one last time.

           “Sorry ‘bout all that. I’m sure yar a nice kid. Ya should find a real job, killing people ain’t a good path for boys like ya. Oh and just sayin’ but ya should probably avoid this palace now. ‘Cause if we spot ya around here again…” his somewhat friendly smile turned devilish, “we’ll tickle ya twice as bad. Got that?”

Once again a frantic nod was Noctis’ answer. The guys all waved goodbye at him, among cheers and loud snickers…

          And just like that, he was thrown outside.

The ropes holding his wrists were cut, and his stuff set down next to him. Then the door was slammed behind him. And he ended up all alone on the dark alley. He immediately searched through his belongings, happy to have his bandages and boots back – especially the boots, they were high quality and he didn’t want to walk back to the Guild barefoot. But of course, the men didn’t give him his gauntlet back.  
Damn. This was one loss he would have to explain to his elders…

However, he was alive. Alive, and overall unharmed – except the huge blow to his ego. This was a better conclusion to this misadventure than everything he had imagined. He couldn’t believe they let him go away like this. Maybe they just didn’t want to hurt a youngster. Not that their methods had been any more pleasant than a good ol’ beating, but he didn’t get to chose either…

The boss’ words still echoed in his head. Finding another job… hmpf! Stupid. He was good at what he did. Usually. And besides, he didn’t know any other life… Nah, he would keep trying. Pass the initiations. Become a master. And  _then_  he would show them.  
Wrapping the bandages around his oversensitive feet, he slipped his boots back on and stood up on shaky legs. His eyes instinctively searched for the night sky, and its fire flowers of greens and pinks. He still didn’t have a token to bring back… Ah well. There was no deadline for that. He would have other occasions.

For his next try though… he would rather chose any place  _but_  this one.


End file.
